


bekräftigen

by natjennie



Series: liebessprachen [2]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Autistic Richard Hendricks, First Kiss, Inspired by Richard Siken, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Requited Love, Richard Hendricks is Bad at Feelings, Stream of Consciousness, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natjennie/pseuds/natjennie
Summary: I just wanted to let everyone know that have no idea when this set because I'm indecisive and an idiot, so you're gonna have to deal with a real vague timeline, I'm sorry. other than that, have fun I love you bright eyes full hearts can't lose.
Relationships: Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks
Series: liebessprachen [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204739
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. peer review

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to let everyone know that have no idea when this set because I'm indecisive and an idiot, so you're gonna have to deal with a real vague timeline, I'm sorry. other than that, have fun I love you bright eyes full hearts can't lose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take him home  
> and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his  
> like a crash test car.  
> I wanted to be wanted and he was  
> very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
> 
> (little beast - 4 // richard siken)

It’s a casual “my captain” that does it. 

Well, really, it was also the catalog of other clunky, archaic, strangely charming compliments, the references to Julia Roberts movies Richard’s never seen, the “you're a Mr. Potato Head of beautiful people,” the god damn “you’re a catch, just deal with it,” if he’s laying it all out on the table. 

The metric tons of Incognito Mode _what does love feel like_ and _am I in love with my friend_ and _am I gay_ searches at increasingly concerning hours of the night certainly helped. 

Looking back, it’s a wonder the frantic “I’ve just got a lot of shit on my plate! There’s no way we’re gonna meet this deadline, not with Dinesh and Gilfoyle at each other’s throats, and speaking of that when the fuck are they gonna get together because there’s definitely something going on there because- I’ve been thinking about it and maybe I’m gay, or at least I might be in love with Jared and- oh **fuck**. Shit. _Don’t hang up._ Please,” 3AM call with Monica didn’t seal the deal.

And the, admittedly, more frequent and less shame-filled, gay porn searches that may or may not have involved like. A curly-haired brunette and a tall skinny black-haired guy. Which, the first time he saw it, may or may not have made him come in his boxers in fucking seconds like the hardest he’s ever come, ever, so hard he thought he shorted out a neuron in his brain. That definitely didn’t hurt the situation.

Honestly, the fact that a “captain” does it isn’t as surprising as it should be.

Considering how the initial gasp and “My captain! O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,” made Richard's face and his gut heat up in a way he really didn't know what to do with and the look in Jared's eyes and the unabashedly proud smile beaming back at him made him want to puke, so the stuttered "Alright. Dismissed," was all he could do to stop himself from keeling over right there in the middle of the hacker hostel. And yeah, maybe, recently he’s looked up the stupid poem. Maybe he memorized the words. So what?

If he really lets himself think about it, which he's doing a fucking lot of recently, those weird, overwhelming, old-fashioned, exaggerated sort of compliments do a shit ton more to him than they probably should. So, now that he's just gone ahead and let himself think about it and the world didn't collapse around him any more than it had any other day, what’s next?

If Richard = in love with Jared Then;

_What the fuck is he going to do about it?_

End If;

The way he sees it there are. A million options. A million billion, infinitely real infinitely terrifying horrendous glorious rhapsodic options. Realistically, practically, back down to earth, grounded, come on, in 2-3-4, hold 2-3-4, out 2-3-4, there are three.

If Richard confessing = true

_Oh God oH no how the fuck does he even begin? Shit, he couldn’t, what would he even- but what if.. what if he did? What if he just… did?_

Elseif outcome is positive Then;

_He could- He might get to- This one is the most dangerous option of them all. All of the mights. All of the coulds. The possibilities become stars and galaxies and blackholes in his head and in his chest and it’s too much for one stupid fucking coder to handle._

Elseif outcome is negative Then;

_Then. Then. Then. Then he fucking- he implodes. Or explodes, because he can’t ever just keep his problems to himself and deal with them normally like a fucking adult. So, because of course he would, he becomes a supernova. He burns everything down around him and Pied Piper is in ashes and Dinesh and Gilfoyle are wreathed in flame and Jared is ripped apart achingly atom by atom and Richard feels the searing heat of the pyre melting his bones as an afterthought to the sour ache of the crooked poisoned blade in his belly that is being the one who caused all of it._

Else

_He doesn’t. Doesn’t do any of it. Richard confessing = false and. He just. Continues on like this. Everything stays exactly as it was- well, as it is. Because it’s definitely not how it was. Now he keeps his eyes on Jared’s hands for way too long after he’s handed over whatever important company-saving document Richard has just grabbed from him. He leans in and away and in and away from Jared’s touch, like they’re wildly spinning magnets, and every glimpse of those wicked stormy blue-gray temptresses makes him feel like he’s floating ten feet off the ground. So it can’t go back to how it was. He’s stuck like this. In purgatory. Surrounded by Jared’s kindness, his warmth, his devotion, his affection, without ever admitting to feeling it. Without giving a single bit of it back. There is a sick part of Richard’s brain that likes the idea of that. Of feeding off of Jared’s care, wrapping himself in a blanket of Jared Dunn and suffocating in it, no need to call it what it is, no need to acknowledge that he’s drowning. Just let himself drift off, rocked to sleep by the rhythm of the undertow. It’s selfish, so utterly selfish, he understands that. But God, he wants to deserve this so badly and the second he doesn’t, the second he fucks up like he knows he’s going to, it’s gone. It fucking runs through his fingers like sopping wet sand and he doesn’t know if he can take that, not with this. With anything else, he’d survive, but not this._

End If;

And the problem with this nonsense block of code is that the last option keeps bringing him back to the second one, but then that makes him think about, hope about, care about the first option, and how much he god damn wants the first option brings him right back to fear of the second, which only leaves the third and there’s no god damn answer, it’s a Sisyphean curse, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy because the longer he works on it the more the third option is just coming true and he’s ruining it by thinking too hard about how much he’s ruining it.

As much as he hates it, he needs peer review.

* * *

“Hey, uh, Big Head?” Richard picks pieces of ripped skin off of his lips with the hand not currently holding his phone to his ear. He probably sounds a little manic, because he’s picked up the phone, dialed, hung up, dialed again, hung up, turned his phone off, took a sip of beer, took another sip just in case, turned his phone back on, took a lap for motivation, dialed, took a sip, hung up, and dialed for the past forty-five minutes.

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Big Head’s nonchalance is so entirely antithetical to the speed Richard’s brain is running at, but right now, it might be exactly what he needs.

“Okay. Uh, right. Okay. I should’ve like, planned this, fuck. Um, okay. I need help. I mean, I’m fine. But there’s a. Problem?” Richard swallowed, already regretting his choice of words.

Big Head’s “Yeah alright. I don’t know how much I can really do but- I’ll give it a shot. What’s wrong?” was so filled with a calm, neutral, mediocre effort that Richard could physically feel his heart speeding up in contrast.

He really should have written something down, came up with a script, made sure Big Head wasn’t like, on speakerphone in class or something but he’s at the point of no return now and that little bit of encouragement was apparently all his stupid brain needed because now the dam was in splinters and he couldn’t stop the words from bubbling up out of his mouth if he tried. Fuck, he shouldn’t have had that beer. Or maybe he should have had a lot more. He hasn’t decided.

“Okay, so- I fucking, I, like. You know Jared? Like, Jared Dunn? What am I talking about of course you know him, stupid, sorry fuck uh. I think he’s like. No, wait. I think I. Do you remember that guy in college that put his hand on my knee and I stood up out of the booth too fast and cracked my head on the lamp and I got stitches- fuck no that’s not important. What the fuck was his name? Anyway, not important, but uh, men? Guys are super weird, right? But then, sometimes, they’re like, cool? And good? And nice? What’s up with that? Like, his face is just really nice to look at and I don’t understand what fucking shade of blue his eyes are I’ve been looking at like a million paint samples and I can’t figure it out, like I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get banned from Home Depot, but also, is straight hair soft? You’ve got straight hair, you’d know, right? Because my hair just fucking knots and gets all matted and shit. That would suck. And how the fuck are his hands so big?! Have you ever- I mean can you imagine what- no, stupid, don’t say that, fuck. I mean. I didn’t mean to. Say. Uh. Basically, I think, the, shit. I think- love? Uhh. Fuck.” Richard’s sputtering petered off as he came up for air, and as soon as his mouth wasn’t moving to talk, his teeth went right back to picking at his bottom lip.

For a minute all he could hear was the blood rushing in his head, his own little aborted panicked half-breaths, and Big Head’s cup slurping.

Then, a confused, “Right. Okay, yeah, I think I got most of that. Which part was the problem?”

“The um. The love part?” Richard jerked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. The fact that that was Big Head’s only comment, he decided to take as a blessing.

A beat. “You being in love with Jared?”

The choked squawk that came out in response must have been enough of an answer.

“Yeah, I don’t see the issue then? I mean, you love Jared, Jared’s been in love with you since day one, so? Seems like an easy solution, right? Unless, I mean, was the problem that it's a dude? Because like, who cares, man.”

“Wh- are you- I don’t- how- What?” Richard’s brain had decided sentences were no longer an option.

Big Head’s confusion was palpable. “Are you alright, dude?”

“No! No Big Head I’m not alright, what are you-“ Richard caught himself yelling and quickly lowered his voice. In a harsh whisper, he continued “What are you talking about? I don’t- okay. Shit.” In through the nose, out through the mouth, Hendricks, you can do this.

He fiddled with the strings of his hoodie, wrapping them around in tight curls and picking at the fraying fabric, wishing desperately that he’d thought to shove one of the fidget toys Jared had bought for his desk into his pocket on the way out.

“Okay. I fucking- I like, come out to you? And tell you I’m in love with my COO? And you don’t think there’s an issue with any of that? You don’t see my problem?” Richard’s voice teetered on the edge of frustration, but he forced himself to keep his tone low.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t. Huh. You should just like, talk to him, man. I don’t know. I honestly thought you guys were already together, so I don’t understand what the problem is. Am I helping? I feel like I’m not helping.” Big Head’s straw rattling in his empty cup turned to static in Richard’s mind as he processed this information.

“Wait, are you saying- Okay, you know what Big Head, you’ve actually been a huge help. I gotta go. Thanks, man.”

Big Head’s, “Oh, sure, no problem-“ was cut short as Richard pulled his phone down from his ear to hang up and promptly chucked it halfway across the sidewalk.

“Fuck, shit. Okay, god. I got this.”

Deep breaths.

Richard starts typing.


	2. Schrödinger's love confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pull our boots on with both hands  
> but we can’t punch ourselves awake and all I can do  
> is stand on the curb and say _Sorry_  
>  _about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine._
> 
> (little beast - 7 // richard siken)

Jared is standing in front of him with two travel mugs of tea and the sweetest most earnest look in his eyes in 6 and a half minutes flat, which Richard knows he really should have expected and gotten used to by now, but in the context, it was almost enough to push him overboard.

“You know I could never mind coming when you need me, Richard. However, it is quite late, so, I thought I’d bring you a light chamomile. I was hoping it might help you get some rest. I’ve been so worried about your sleeping habits lately. Oh, but enough from me, what can I do for you, Captain?” 

Jared’s head is tilting to the side just so and he’s got the barest hint of bags under his eyes and he barely had time to throw an oversized sweater on over his stupid thin white t-shirt and plaid sleep pants and he’s placing a gently warmed tumbler of tea into Richard’s shaking hands and the words come out before he even knows he’s thinking them.

“I love you.” 

Richard gasps a sharp breath in when he realizes what he’s done and he wrenches his eyes shut in fear. 

“Oh fuck, no, wait, I had shit I was gonna say, stop, hold on. Hold on, fuck! Just- just give me a second? Forget I said that, I had a whole thing, shit. Just. Gimme a second.”

Jared’s small, shaky, “Of course, Richard,” could have been mistaken for faraway birdsong if they weren’t standing so close together, and fuck they were standing way too close together, weren’t they?

Richard fumbles for a moment, unsure of what to do with his hands. He opens his eyes, setting the mug down on the ground at his feet. Shaking his head, he searches for the madly scribbled index cards he tucked in the pocket of his hoodie, but his hands are trembling too much for them to be of any use. He cringes, closing his eyes again as he presses his palms to his temples.

“Just, let me do this, okay? Whatever happens after is, fuck, is whatever, but we’re here now, right?” Richard huffs out a nervous laugh. He gave a sort of manic shrug, "Might as well. Ha." 

He shakes his head again and takes a deep breath. He keeps his eyes firmly shut. As long as he doesn’t open them, Jared is still there and looking at him with all the love and adoration in the known universe and Richard hasn't fucked it up yet.

Schrödinger's love confession.

“Okay,” another deep breath, “Okay. So, I guess I already said it. I- uh, I love you? Fuck, um. Yeah. No, yeah. I love you. I’ve been so in my head about it for the past. Ha, I don’t know? Months I guess? And I just. I don’t want to fuck it up. Shit, I probably already did. But, I couldn’t just keep like, losing my mind whenever I saw you across the office or like. Fucking crying every time I saw someone drinking tea. Right? I just couldn’t keep living like that. So, I was trying to figure out what the fuck to do about it because thinking, thinking I can do, but acting is not- Doing things? Doing something right? That’s not me. So I called- uh, I talked to Big Head and he. I mean, he was Big Head, but he said uh? I guess he thought we were already like- like that you lo- I mean. He thought that we. Whatever.” Richard’s shoulders shook in a small laugh and he hoped it distracted from the quivering in his hands and lower lip. Suddenly self-conscious about the way he was standing, taking up too much space in the world, he hugged his arms in close to himself, bundling himself into a more palatable package. He felt like a child, everything was too small and too big all at the same time. A self-soothing gesture, Jared had called it.

“Anyway, you just. You make me feel like a human being, Jared. Like a fucking, actual real life, human person who like, has a right to occupy spacetime and- I mean. You know how we’re all technically made of stars and the dust of the dinosaurs and pieces of matter from the Big Bang or whatever? Like, like, like that. Shit, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean- you make me feel like Richard Hendricks. Not fucking, the Dumbest Guy In Tech Richard Hendricks or College Dropout Richard Hendricks or- or Garbage Fire Ruin Everything Heat Death of the Universe Richard Hendricks. Fuck, not even Captain Richard Hendricks. Just. Me. And you- you- I don’t know! You just. You make me- you.” Richard scrunches his face into a grimace, kicking himself for not even being able to use the English language without fucking it up. 

Maybe he should have just put his head down and ignored all of this. Coded until his eyes were bloodshot, until his bones and muscles ached, until the pit in his stomach was just regular hunger instead of whatever this is, until he could stop thinking and just do. At least he knows his fingers on a keyboard can make something people actually want.

He taps his fingers to the sides of his head like he’s rebooting his neural systems, like that bit of physical stimulus will make the words come out better. “And and and yeah I guess I’m the captain, but everyone knows that the captain is really just a figurehead, you’re the fucking. Uh. First mate, or the helmsman, or the boatswain, or or or- wait fuck I did a bunch of ship research last night- Did you know that originally pirates were like, really gay? But, anyway, I mean- you, you- uh. You’re the- it’s you, man. It’s you. I don’t know what else to say. It’s you, Jared. I- I- I- I just. I love you! I love you. You. Jared. Heh.”

Richard could feel the pounding of his heart in the base of his skull and his breathing is speeding up and he’s pressing the base of his hands into his eyes to stop the swirling galaxies of anxiety and want and color and light and fear from swallowing him and-

“Richard?” Jared places his hands gently on Richard’s wrists, cool and crisp and bright, like granny smith apples dipped in caramel at your home town state fair. Familiar in a kind and aching way, a sad sweetness that hurts to remember and sneaks up on you when you don’t expect it to be there but you wouldn’t trade it for all the world. 

He presses his thumb ever so slightly into the base of Richard’s left wrist, his pulse throbbing under the touch, and Richard melts. His hands lower to his sides and his breathing slows, even and clear, and Richard feels like he might have ascended to the upper planes.

“Richard, could I-“ Jared’s fingertips find a home in the tension in the crook of Richard’s jaw.

Richard nods so hard and fast he cracks his nose right into Jared’s chin.

“Oh goodness! Richard, are you alright? Here, let me- We should get you a cold cloth and some-“ Jared’s hands leave his face, recoiling to his sides and flexing open and closed like he’s physically restraining himself from succumbing to the magnetic pull between his hands and Richard’s skin and that’s the last fucking thing Richard wants.

“No! Shit, just, no, I’m fine, just, god, come here, please,” and then Richard was balling his fists into Jared’s white t-shirt, something unknowable twisting in his gut at the sight of those few drops of his blood that have spoiled the pristine fabric, and he’s half pushing himself up and half dragging Jared’s face down into his own.

His nose and mouth and Jared’s chin are covered in his blood and he doesn’t get the angle quite right so it’s all teeth and chapped skin and they’re crashing into each other, sharp and aching, bloody and raw and rapturous. 

Richard kisses Jared like he’s drowning, like he wants to drag every oxygen molecule out of Jared’s lungs with his own and Jared wants to know the sick salvation of suffocating. Or maybe he kisses like he’s starving, like a fire on its last embers, begging for a source of fuel, desperate for kindling and Jared is happy to be burned alive. Or maybe he kisses like he’s lost, wandering the deserts of longing and Jared is the only clean water he’s seen in years and he’s going to drink and drink until the very last drop and Jared has been waiting for someone to need him like this his whole life.

Or maybe it’s not like any of that. Maybe they kiss like it’s the end of the world.

Maybe it’s the start of a new one.

A better one. 

The world they deserve.

One where Richard can do this. He’s allowed. He can do this all the time, every second of his life, and never stop doing it because maybe he’s afraid of what will happen when he does.

And just like that the fear has crept back in. He’s pulling away and he can’t breathe and he’s dying, he’s seeing stars and he clutches onto Jared’s forearm because it’s the only thing keeping him upright and-

Jared just holds him. He gently, so gently, guides Richard’s head to his chest and places his hands, warm and grounding, flat on the plane of his back and presses kisses and serene little sounds into the top of Richard’s wild curls.

“Richard? I’ve got you, sweetheart, you’re alright.”

He doesn’t so much hear the words as he feels them reverberate through Jared into him, attempting to smooth and calm every atom of Richard’s being that is threatening to break apart into quarks and nanoparticles and shoot itself into the sun.

“O-oh my god. I can’t- are you- I didn’t mean to- we don’t have to- you can-“ Richard’s breath is coming too fast for him to complete a sentence and he’s trying to tell Jared that he’s fucked it up, he knows he has and he’ll do anything if Jared will just forget all of this happened because he needs him even if he can’t have him, not like he really wants, but it would be worse to lose him entirely but none of that makes it out of his mouth. 

He wants to wrench away from Jared, too violent, too turbulent, too hostile for Jared’s still waters, but Jared is still there. Still holding him, still pressing his cheek to Richard’s head still rubbing tiny circles into Richard’s back with his thumb, still muttering praise and support into Richard’s very soul and he thinks he should maybe actually start listening for once.

“Oh, Richard. Richard, darling, I’m here. You’re incredible Richard, I could never even begin to- oh! You’re so beautiful, Richard, please don’t be upset, I’m not going anywhere. Unless- oh, goodness, unless you’d like me to go?” Jared pulls back, just a few inches to look down at Richard, and Richard didn’t think he could be more in love.

Jared’s eyes are bright and round and glistening, tears pooling at the edges, and his eyebrows are pushed together in such a hopeful, questioning, wishing, wanting, expression and his mouth is doing that funny thing where he’s smiling so earnestly that the corners turn downward.

“Hhh- Jared?” Richard breathes more than says.

“Yes, Richard?” Jared’s breath catches in his throat, the bottom half of his face smeared in Richard’s dried blood, his shirt all bunched up and pulled askew, a big stain of spilled chamomile on his pajama pants. He looks like a freshly hatched baby bird, sticky and ruffled with amniotic fluid, feathers sticking up in all directions, looking at the world with equal parts fear and wonder, and Richard doesn’t understand why but he has never wanted anyone more.

Maybe he doesn’t need to understand it. Maybe feeling it is enough.

“Let me- can I try one more time?”

And yeah, Jared’s widening eyes, crackling smile, and timid nod are enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading and rereading every fic in the jared/richard tag, so if I subconsciously plagiarized something from a fellow writer please let me know I promise I didn't mean to.
> 
> anyway, follow my tumblr @natjennie bye ily <3


End file.
